I miss a world still full of unknowable things.

I miss laughing at my friends hair, frozen by the condensation of her breath. I miss the dead quiet and clear sky of a cold winter's night.

I miss the feeling of my toes in the dirt. I miss my grandfather trying to teach me how to clean a pike in his heavy accent. I miss the crackle of leaves and the crunch of snow as I walked through the woods.

I miss the girl at daycare who told me she was my mother in a past life and held my hand. I miss watching raindrops fall down the window pain with my brother. I miss my mother's singing. I miss waking up to the gentle warmth of the sun.